


through the looking glass

by junplums



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: :(, Angst, Blindness, Depression, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Synesthesia, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, dont cry pls, im really sorry, poor seungcheol, ulgo shipji ana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 02:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11614014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junplums/pseuds/junplums
Summary: The day I get tired of you is the day everything is over.





	through the looking glass

**Author's Note:**

> Okay.  
> I didn't think I'd finish this as fast as I did, and I can't trust that it's perfect. This is my first fic. What I do know is, I went through waking up at random hours to add to it, using icepops to fuel my brain, and writing a grasshopper au to kick writer's block's ass. It's cool though. There was no stress. (Will I post the grasshopper fic, you say? Yes I'll post the grasshopper fic!)  
> I hope you like it, and if you do, make sure to leave some Kudos.

"Jeonghan."

Seungcheol's heart began to beat faster and faster as Jeonghan looked at him curiously, waiting to see what the boy had shakily called his name out for.

He had been listening to Seungcheol's recent composition, muttering under his breath about the colors that were either leaking or bursting from the music, as well as trying to figure out how to explain those two effects to his blind best friend.

Jeonghan's hands clenched until his knuckles were white, his neutral look was now beginning to shift into a frown, and he furrowed his eyebrows, deep in thought.

"No you aren't, you're kidding, right?"

Seungcheol, beginning to hear the change in Jeonghan's voice started to wish he would've just kept quiet, he should've just left the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He shouldn't of even thought to release them, to let them flutter in the air for Jeonghan to see.

Seungcheol doesn't respond because it feels as if his ability to speak was taken from him as soon as he impulsively confessed his feelings for his best friend.

"We're best friends," Jeonghan's voice began to trail off as he rubbed the nape of his neck.

He continued, speaking slowly and pausing to try and read Seungcheol's face for emotion.

"I'm sorry, I just don't feel that way towards you."

It was that simple. Vowels and constanants that were strung together broke Seungcheol's heart.

He wasn't expecting for Jeonghan to reciprocate romantic feelings back to him, but a small part of him had still wished he would be in love with Seungcheol too, the same part that convinced Seungcheol to read into things Jeonghan said and hold onto them.

Seungcheol heard "I love you," when Jeonghan was getting off the phone at 4 AM after they stayed up all night, but his naivety caused him to process it as "I'm in love with you".

  
On one specific night, Jeonghan had been drunk when he called Seungcheol. Seungcheol licked at the flame of his drunken words, smiling softly as he ran his hands through his vibrant red hair, listening intently to the ramblings of Jeonghan.

"When you speak, it's like honey dripping. your words drip yellow, you know how your heartbeat quickens pace when i lean in for a hug? if that were a color, it'd be yellow."

Recalling certain events only made Seungcheol's cheeks go red in the presence of no one, but coming to the reality of the fact that Jeonghan wasn't in love with him too made him feel sick.

  
"Seungcheol," Jeonghan whispered, beginning to walk towards the boy who's face had went white, his eyebrows knitted in deep thought. He was lightly tapping his cane with his back against the wall, and when Jeonghan had called out, his head immediately shot up to the direction he'd heard Jeonghan's voice.

"Are you okay?"

Taking a deep breath, and trying to rememeber that he'd rather have Jeonghan as a friend than not have him at all.

"It's fine. No hard feelings at all." Seungcheol smiled, thrusting himself from the wall and beginning to click his tongue as he used the long, white cane to locate his bed.

"I have to get home. I have some errands to run," Jeonghan rushed, picking up his coat and the half empty bag of jellies he'd been munching on.

Seungcheol didn't say anything, he just sat down and nodded his head, flashing Jeonghan a tight lipped smile.

Soon, the door to his quaint apartment closed, and it was silent.

That night, Seungcheol cried. He cried because he was finally coming to terms that he was in love with his best friend, he cried because he had to grin and bear Jeonghan talking about his increasing body count, and not being able to be the one on that list. The only one, on that list as a matter of fact. He cried because he knew that they'd be best friends forever, He'd watch him get married to someone else, there would come a time that Jeonghan won't be sitting at a laptop playing every single track that Seungcheol brainstormed, telling him about the "pinkish-purple" and the "blue-green" hues coloring the song, he wouldn't take his time to sit and think about the best way to explain these colors using senses other than sight to Seungcheol, as selfish as it was, he would soon become nothing but a guest in his life, when he was used to being a starring role. 

As time gradually passed from his confession, Jeonghan began to see Jisoo, an old friend that the boys had both known. He and Seungcheol became a less attached for the first time in their lives. When you have a boyfriend, you can't really sleep in the same bed as your best friend on nights you stayed the night. You can't curl up underneath the other so that your scent intoxicates them and only pulls the other deeper into an aching, loveless love with you. Holding Seungcheol's hand in public would be inappropriate and too intimate, his boyfriend would feel that something was going on, and no, to Seungcheol's displeasure, there wasn't.

Sometimes it slipped Seungcheol's memory that Jeonghan had a boyfriend, and he was only reminded that the man he was in love with had a boyfriend when his hand would be slapped away because Seungcheol couldn't help but to reach over and graze his fingers over Jeonghan's hand, tracing the unique pattern of his knuckles as Jeonghan sat with his thin laptop, reading emails. Seungcheol would sit at his piano, experimenting with chord progressions, while Jeonghan read emails and practiced his digital art.

Whenever Jeonghan invited Seungcheol out to do something with him and Jisoo, Seungcheol declined, not wanting to taint the aura of mutually shared feelings with his own envy and ache.

Apparently, though, Jisoo wasn't as in love with Jeonghan as Jeonghan was in love with him, because Jeonghan caught Jisoo cheating on him with some guy from the bar.

Jeonghan cried, and he walked through the rain all the way from Jisoo's apartment, to the bar to get drunk, and had a cab take him to Seungcheol's aprtment.

At 3:16 AM, on May 21, Seungcheol stumbled to reach for his cane, and cautiously walked towards the door where choked sobs could be heard everytime the excessive ringing of the doorbell faded out.

Of course, Seungcheol needed not question who it was. He'd heard Jeonghan cry hysterically once before.

Seungcheol opened the door, before hearing the sobs come to a stop. It sounded like Jeonghan was getting up from being seated at the door, so Seungcheol held the door open quietly, allowing Jeonghan to pick himself up.

As Jeonghan walked into the space, Seungcheol could hear the sound of his shoes squeaking on the hard wood floor in between Jeonghan's sniffles.

After the two sat in silence for a full minute, Jeonghan cleared his throat.

"He cheated on me."

Seungcheol bit his bottom lip, slowing the nervous rhythmic tapping of his foot, thinking of something to say.

"I'm sorry. You can stay the night here, of course if you want. I'll sleep on the couch and you can take my bed–"

Jeonghan soon cut him off, when he realized what the boy was saying.

"I don't wanna sleep alone,"

"Okay." Seungcheol said quietly, rising and beginning to walk towards the kitchen to boil some warm milk.

When Jeonghan was 10, his parents began to argue often and got into physical confrontations every other day. Whenever they started throwing stuff at eachother, and yelling words that dripped blue-black and cherry red, he'd pack a few things and walk down the street to stay at Seungcheol's place.

Usually, he would come crying and worried, so Seungcheol's mother would boil up some warm milk on a pot, add sugar and soothe him with calm, positive affirmations that clouded the atmosphere with baby blue.

Seungcheol remembered this to be a thing that calmed Jeonghan, and immediately went to go and do it.

After he'd carefully located a mug, and poured in the milk to what he thought was full, Seungcheol walked out the kitchen and into his bedroom where he'd heard Jeonghan relocate to.

Seungcheol assumed he was lying in the bed, because a faint squeak could be heard before swift steps made their way towards him.

Jeonghan softly gripped the mug from the older's hands.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Seungcheol began to sit onto his bed, climbing in and asking Jeonghan to help him find where the duvet's corners were so that he could have it evenly spread out across his body.

There were short, small sips, then glass hitting the bedside table as Jeonghan roughly place down the mug, shaky fingers failing him.

When Jeonghan finished, and slipped into bed beside Seungcheol, Seungcheol's mind began to race.

How could someone cheat on you? How could someone ever get tired of you? I'll never get tired of you. Matter of fact, I'll never get enough of you. The day I get tired of you is the day everything is over and when everything is over I, Choi Seungcheol, will have nothing.

"Cheol, do you still love me deeply?" Jeonghan blurted, his voice coming out louder than he thought it would.

Leaning up onto his forearms, Seungcheol sat for a second, pursing his lips.

"I don't love you deeply. I'm in love with you. I loved you deeply when you just love me, and you do still just love me."

Jeonghan adjusted himself so that he was now lying on his back, and Seungcheol mirrored his movement subconsciously.

"You're in love with me."

"Yes." Seungcheol swallowed, his heart rate quickening.

"I don't like you like that." Jeonghan frowned, sliding his hand across the bed towards Seungcheol's and intertwining their hands together.

Seungcheol sighed, squeezing Jeonghan's smaller hand. "I know."

"How are you even in love with someone when you can't see?" Jeonghan inquired. He didn't think of it as an ignorant question, he was just curious.

"I cant see anything, Jeonghan. Don't be a shallow asshole." Seungcheol slipped his hand from Jeonghan's, which hurt him to do, but it hurt more to lay there next to the person he loved more than anyone in this universe with their hands tightly connected, as if there was a force that pulled them together.

"You know this can't go on forever right," Jeonghan murmured.  
  
Seungcheol ignored his truth, turning away from him and falling asleep easily.

That next morning, on May 22, it came sooner than Seungcheol had thought it would.

He thought he had longer before all the sand slipped into the lower half of the hourglass.

He woke up, and in more than just a literal sense. There was loud rapping on his door that had no rhythm to it, just consistent knocking that pounded at his head, and he wondered how he hadn't woken up sooner.

Seungcheol was puzzled, and he sat up for a second, feeling that the bed was obviously only occupied by one person.

Maybe Jeonghan had left to get fresh air and time to himself, or maybe he couldn't find anything to eat. Seungcheol would most definitely have to pick a bone with him over that though, because Jeonghan wasn't supposed to leave when he stayed the night. It scared Seungcheol immensely, it reminded him that the last time he did that, Seungcheol experienced a panic attack among many other terrible things. Seungcheol can't recall the events in full detail. It's not like he wanted to recall them anyway, though he knew they were in his grey matter, locked up somewhere.

Rushing to the door expectantly, he opened it halfway to feel a dark aura cast over him.

He knew it wasn't Jeonghan, because Jeonghan carried a light aura. He didn't make Seungcheol feel like he did a few months ago. Jeonghan made him feel like he was dreaming, like a weight was lifted off his chest. Even then, he still found himself tempted to ask.

"Jeonghan?" Seungcheol questioned, blocking the interior of his home with his body.

"It's your mother, Seungcheol." The voice was stern and strong, and she escorted herself into the apartment.

She made herself comfortable, quickly locating the kettle and filling it with water to make a hot cup of coffee.

He didn't know why she was here, he couldn't even remember the last time he saw her.

"Mom," Seungcheol started. He heard her hum as a way to indicate that he could continue, and so he did. "Did you see Jeonghan on your way here?"

The only sounds that could be heard was a loud yelp, and the loud clash of the mug onto the ground, the liquid dripping and traveling across the floor.

"Jisoo called us. We know what's happening." She said in a shaky voice, scrambling to the kitchen to get the dustpan, a broom, and an old rag to clean the mess she'd made.

Seungcheol was confused. He didn't talk to Jisoo often anymore, he only saw him when he was with Jeonghan.

"What do you mean what's happening?" Seungcheol asserted defensively, balling his hands into a fist. What was she talking about? Why was he becoming so angry? He wanted her to stop.

She reached out towards her son, grabbing his shoulders firmly. "You're sick."

Seungcheol burst out into a fit of laughter. Did she really think he was sick? Seungcheol didn't feel like he had the flu or anything. He felt okay, he didn't feel sick. Just a little bit out of it, but he always felt like that.

"I'm not sick," he giggled, reaching his arms out to place them on her shoulders too.

"You have to be, because if you weren't sick, you wouldn't be asking if I saw Jeonghan." She stated calmly, and Seungcheol grinded his teeth in nervousness.

"What do you mean?" He asked, but something told him deep down he knew the answer.

His mother took a deep breath and responded with a monotone voice. "Jeonghan is dead."

What was she talking about? Jeonghan was just here last night. Jeonghan was perfectly fine, he was heartbroken, but he was fine.

When Seungcheol didn't respond, his mother took it upon herself to continue.

"Jisoo says that through these past months, you've been reliving the entire timeline from when you confessed to him, to when he died. I came here and it seems like you've made it to the finish line, you found out that Jeonghan died the morning after." She finished, and he could tell she was wiping away tears when he heard her bangles clank.

Seungcheol could feel everything crash down on him. He had made himself a paradise, he made himself a way to cope. His own reality where Jeonghan lived, even if at the end of the story he died in the same way. The same storyline his mind had been walking through since June of last year.

Jeonghan died by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He died because the world is cruel. He left Seungcheol's apartment at around 4:30 AM, and while walking to the coffee shop down the street he was shot by someone committing a drive-by.

He died on May 22, 2016.

Today was May 22, 2017.

"He died a year ago," His mother cried out in a voice that was barely audible.

Seungcheol didn't reply, waiting for her to continue.

"We shouldn't of let you take a leap year living on your own," She croaked, finally dumping the glass into the trash and putting the things she used to clean up the broken shards and the sticky mess up back in its rightful places. "We should've told you to come back home."

Nothing was registering in Seungcheol's mind. Had he known that he was doing this to himself? He'd cut off all contact with people outside unless he was going to the store. He quit his job after Jeonghan had died, and being the understanding parents that his parents were, they began to support him financially without asking for a cent back.

Choi Seungcheol had been in love with his childhood best friend, Yoon Jeonghan. He confessed, and the feelings weren't reciprocated. Jeonghqn went on to be happy dating another childhood friend of theirs. He was cheated on, and showed up at Seungcheol's door tired and emotionally distraught. They talked, they slept, he left for some coffee, and he died.

That was the real way everything happened. There was no happy ending, and reliving it for months didn't change the reality of it.

"Pack some things, you're coming home. We'll find you someone to talk to."

He was lucky to be born into a well-off, affluent family. Seungcheol went home, and he started going to a psychiatrist, who diagnosed him with PTSD, and at a later date he was also diagnosed with situational depression.

Seungcheol followed the same routine daily.

Wake up, eat Raisin Bran, watch TV, go to his appointment at 3:00 PM, come home, and cry until he fell asleep on the couch. He and his parents communicated with small talk limited to just questions that he knew the doctor told them to ask to keep track of his mental health.

He answered with the same statement everytime.

"How do you live when the person you love the most is dead?"

They never had an appropriate response. There was one, though. It's that you don't live the same. You're alive, you're breathing and functioning but you can't possibly live as the same person you were.

Seungcheol chose to push through, though. He knew he had to do it for himself, he knew he had to do it for his family, and he knew he had to do it for his best friend, the first person he ever loved.

Seungcheol lived. Despite it being hard to do, he lived. He wasn't living in happiness, not yet, but he was well on his way to.


End file.
